


Constellations Behind Closed Eyes

by Arrestzelle



Series: Rammstein Requests [15]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Aftercare, Dom/sub, Light Bondage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutter Era, Prostate Massage, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25375039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrestzelle/pseuds/Arrestzelle
Summary: Schneider makes Paul see stars through one simple method: giving him multiple prostate orgasms. Easy.
Relationships: Paul Landers/Christoph Schneider | Doom
Series: Rammstein Requests [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523702
Comments: 23
Kudos: 51





	Constellations Behind Closed Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> LOL what even is writing anymore. I'm so sorry for my dreadful writing pace right now, especially after reopening requests. My motivation and inspiration has been buried in the gutter. This particular one has been sitting in my inbox for months, and while it was an unsolicited request, it was an idea and a kink I'm very much into, thus it had to be done. I hope you enjoy it, anon, whomever you may be. 
> 
> This is [Mutter](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5e123e4e8ba1681987b2b32b2a49679d/3d645acad6f325a1-1f/s640x960/dc004d86a2b4abe525f5bce5233053828193e9e0.jpg) [era](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9254263190bc36ff7c8d4e1180016295/3d645acad6f325a1-23/s400x600/f3b4989baca2ca7453825e48aa07ae95d4556968.jpg).

There he rests, docile on the bed. Wrists bound, arms lax and elbows planted. His fingers twist around the silk of the restraints, as if to seek an anchor rather than an escape. Vision stripped from his senses, he’s left only a man in wait, without the freedom to rise, to view, to speak. Alike to the fabric wrapped around his eyes, another renders him mute, caught between his teeth and the split pink valley of his lips. He’s motionless, patient, breathing slow and easy.

Schneider had previously left him there, laid out and bound, to piss and wash his hands. But now he stands at the door, watching that chest rise and fall with every slow, calm breath. The way his fingers almost idly twist and clench around the silk. His teeth and lips comfortably resting around the cloth in his mouth. His pink cheeks, his red hair slightly mussed—done by Schneider when they had kissed before he gagged him.

Finally, Schneider is snapped from his hypnotized state. He steps into the room, shutting the door behind himself. It earns a slight turn of Paul’s head in his direction. Schneider is silent as he crosses the room.

Wearing only his briefs, Schneider is more modest than Paul. Paul is bare of everything but the silk around his wrists and eyes. Surveying his body, he admires his fit thighs, the freckles upon that milky skin, and then further up he takes notice of how he’s already well on his way to half-hard. That stomach tightened with muscle, clenching in now that he’s made tense by Schneider’s presence. His fit chest, dusted with hair. The familiar silver chain pooling in the crevice of his collarbone. His strong jaw coming in with stubble, his plush lips, flushed cheeks, those small eyebrows knitting together now.

A tongue made silent for once. Schneider has the freedom to say whatever he so desired. No complaints, no arguments, no laughter, no teasing remark.

He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, beside Paul. He reaches out to stroke a broad, calloused hand along his shin, touching warm skin and his fair body hair which tickles across his fingers. Paul doesn’t make a sound. He just lays there motionlessly, still, obedient. Schneider runs both hands up over his shins, plants them on the bed, and leans over to kiss him gently on the knee. Paul sucks in an audible breath. Along a pathway made by his lips, Schneider kisses over his thigh, across freckled skin and soft, pale hair.

“You’re all mine,” he murmurs against his warm skin, pausing to kiss twice more over his thigh, “In this moment, you belong to me, and only me. You’re no longer your own man. I will take over everything that you are. Your body, your mind. You’re no longer Paul. You’re just _Christoph’s._ ”

As he whispers this into skin rippling with goosebumps, he ascends. Mouthing over his hip, along his belly, up to his chest. Comfortably laying between those lean legs, spread for him willingly, letting him rest upon his body. Paul’s face is weak and yearning; his mouth slightly open around the cloth wedged between his teeth, cheeks warm, jaw relaxed. Schneider smiles quietly to himself. Even if he can’t see his eyes, he can read him so well. When he’s opposed to something, you can tell in the way his mouth is tense and his jaw is locked. But now, evidently so, he enjoys what he’s saying. He agrees with it. He approves.

“Good boy,” Schneider whispers. He draws his arms tightly around his torso, hands splayed across sides, and leans in to rest his ear to his heart. Schneider had always been the type to engage in a gentler incline up into the more intense parts of their sessions. He enjoyed the moments of intimacy like this, connecting more than just their bodies, almost as much as he enjoyed the sexual acts themselves. Paul’s body is small and warm under his own, and his heart is maintaining a steady, contented beating under his ear. Listening, Schneider closes his eyes and simply soaks in the naked skin on skin contact. Feeling Paul’s calm breathing, listening to his beating heart. He smiles when Paul closes his legs around him, knees drawn up and feet pressing into the back of Schneider’s thighs.

Moments unencumbered by speech or ingrained social anxieties are so peaceful. He could lay like this for the next hour.

Instead, he finally gets up off of him, slow and reluctant. Giving a departing kiss to his heart, Schneider sits up, plants a hand against the bed for stability, and leans over to retrieve the bottle of lube from the nightstand. He gently nudges apart Paul’s legs. Schneider places the lube aside, deciding a warm-up is definitely needed—Paul had softened a bit.

With both hands, he roams his touch down from his chest, across his clenched belly, to his hips. From there, he tenderly curls his hand around his slightly hard shaft, simply holding it, while he leans in to kiss over his inner thigh, his hip. He slides his free hand up over the underside of his thigh, easing his legs further apart.

Tilting his head, Schneider nuzzles into his inner thigh, kissing over his skin, warmer and more intimate here as he descends into his groin. He mouths over his balls, easing them into his mouth with a curl of his tongue. Paul huffs and spreads his thighs wider, wiggling himself down for a better angle. Schneider sucks and mouths at him here, delicate and fragile and warm. Paul exhales harshly through his nose. Schneider shifts closer on his belly, wrapping his arms around Paul’s thighs, anchoring him to himself. Arousal rises like a climbing lava upon Schneider. Stripping away reservations, hesitation.

Rising onto an elbow, Schneider brings a hand in to lift Paul’s hard cock and dip his tongue into the opening of his foreskin, tasting the pre-cum built on the slit of the head. Paul’s hips lurch, thighs clenching between his arms. Schneider draws back his foreskin and sucks the head into his mouth, cheeks hollowed and lips tightly wrapped around him. Paul grunts around the gag. The saltiness of his arousal pierces Schneider’s taste buds. Paul has always been on the bigger side, a cock so impressive on the otherwise smaller body. Schneider doesn’t relent; he nurses at him in long, deep pulls, taking more and more, bit by bit, working him gradually into his mouth until he’s just on the cusp of gagging. Deep in his mouth Paul’s cock sits stiffly, while Schneider focuses on maintaining suction. Paul is moaning softly, breathing harshly.

Schneider pulls off. He doesn’t want to lead his orgasm more than he already has. He has plans.

Paul’s cock rests wet and completely erect against his belly. Schneider runs both hands up over his sides, enjoying the warmth of his skin, the pleasure derived from worshipping his body like this. Stroking across his chest, palm and fingers skimming across hard nipples. Down again, inwards to roam along his clenched stomach. One hand along the length of his cock. Schneider sits up again, unraveling his arms from around Paul’s freckled thighs. For a moment he merely observes. Admiring the flush to Paul’s body, his beautifully stiff cock, his bound arms, his pink nipples asking for a mouth. The way his bottom lip is dripping with saliva, soaked through the gag entirely. His cheeks are a deep red.

“Beautiful,” Schneider murmurs, reaching out to stroke his hands lovingly along those muscular thighs, shapely and quite lovely. Paul grunts, turning his head into his bicep. Schneider calmly slides his hand in to grip his cock. He strokes at him with a firm fist, pulling at him a dozen times, the slickness of his saliva and Paul’s pre-cum filling the room with purely pornographic sounds. Paul drops his head back against the pillow, stomach tightening, hips pushing greedily. He begins fucking Schneider’s fist. Pumping his cock into his hand with trembling rocks of his lower half. The wet sound is loud and filthy. Paul is huffing and grunting now. Schneider smiles to himself, finding his desperation amusing. He lets his cock go. Paul drops his hips back down onto the bed.

Schneider grabs the lube. He continues smiling, pleased with Paul’s state. His chest is heaving now, his lips working anxiously around the gag between his teeth. His cock is flushed a darker pink, a line of pre-cum connecting the tip of his dick to his belly. Covering his fingers with a plentiful amount of lube, Schneider reaches down to rub them between Paul’s asscheeks. Paul immediately spreads his thighs further apart, welcoming it.

They had fucked only two hours ago, when Paul first arrived. Insertion is easier due to this. He can push his index in easily, his asshole eating it up. Paul is hot around him. Schneider intently watches, allowing himself to indulge in this visual. Fingers soaked in lube, Schneider doesn’t wait long to begin rubbing his middle finger alongside his index. Easily it goes in—he comfortably pushes them in and out of him. He pans his gaze up from his straining cock to his pinched face. Beyond the blindfold, Schneider can see the furrow in his brow.

“I’m going to make you come at least three times,” Schneider says lowly, voice husky and rumbling, watching his face, “Then I’m going to fuck you for my own pleasure. Nod if you understand.”

Paul nods shakily, immediately. Schneider smiles faintly. He grabs the lube, turns it over to squeeze a dollop onto his fingers currently inserted into the other man. Schneider pumps them firmer now, thrusting his fingers into his ass with his knuckles roughly pushing against his asscheeks. Paul cranes his head back, his short crimson hair wild. He moans openly, muffled around the gag. Schneider shifts closer, leaning over Paul’s leg with his elbow planting into the bed. Lying beside him, Schneider leans in to kiss at his side and rib cage while easing in a third finger. He’s so incredibly slick down here, it makes it easier. Paul is grunting tightly now, as if that alone is a bit of a stretch. Schneider can work his way up to four fingers, but only with time. His fingers are bigger than Paul’s, that’s certain.

Mouthing at one of his stiff nipples, Schneider idly licks and catches it between his teeth. The majority of his focus is trained on turning his wrist, angling his fingers to begin curling them up towards his belly. Paul is still, breath caught, waiting—and then Schneider finds the right spot. Paul’s entire body lurches, thigh pressing up into Schneider’s side. He grunts and moans, back arching. Schneider sweeps his gaze up to admire Paul’s red face up close. The way his bound hands are clutching at the bars installed in Schneider’s bed, white-knuckled.

With wrists that are exceptionally trained to withstand fatigue, Schneider doesn’t have to rest. He continuously, forcefully pushes and pushes his fingers up against the spot inside of him that has Paul wiggling and practically _whimpering_ , for lack of a better word. Paul isn’t the kind to whimper, he’s the kind to laugh, to mock, to encourage, or to merely grunt, if anything. A façade that must be maintained, even in bed. But these moments, these sessions—such a performance is forbidden. Schneider rips it from him through the use of a blindfold and a gag. And then all Paul can do is moan or whimper, and nothing more.

Admiring his cock resting upon his heaving belly, Schneider watches it flex, straining, arching up as Paul clenches his inner muscles. Dripping nonstop with his fluids, copious and delicious. Schneider is unrelenting: he continues pumping his fingers up against his prostate, until Paul is craning his head back far and groaning unashamedly in his throat, raw and unfiltered. He begins shaking his hips, growling and jerking his hands against the binds. Schneider strokes his hand calmly over Paul’s side, ignoring his demands. Paul is impatient.

He stops abusing his prostate. He removes his fingers from inside of him. Paul deflates into the bed. Schneider instead grips his cock and begins pulling at it, but only in six quick pumps that has Paul’s hips lifting again, thighs clenched and quivering. As soon as he begins snapping up into it, an attempt to fuck his hand, Schneider lets go. Paul drops back down against the bed, huffing noisily. Schneider smiles. He brings his fingers back down to stroke them between Paul’s asscheeks. Paul reassumes position, spreading his thighs further apart. Schneider sits up, no longer leaning over Paul’s leg. Instead, he sits back on his calves close to Paul, tucking his knees under his thighs to keep them open. He pushes those three fingers back into his ass. Paul clenches up around him.

Schneider doesn’t hesitate. He turns his wrist, and begins forcefully curling them up against his prostate. Paul groans openly, head dropping back against the pillows. Schneider grabs the lube while he continues fucking him with his fingers, relentlessly driving them into his prostate. He squeezes more lubricant onto his moving fingers—careful in assuring an absence of pain. Meanwhile, Paul’s legs are quivering wildly against his knees. Paul is twisting his fingers in the silk restraints, his chest and stomach heaving. Suddenly, he starts groaning again, loud and open, albeit muffled by the cloth gag. Schneider watches him, studying him.

The wet, squelching sound of his fingers curling repeatedly in his ass is vulgar and unfiltered in the room—Paul’s grunting and whimpering only builds upon it, worsening Schneider’s arousal, while heightening his satisfaction of bringing him to this state. Schneider brings his free hand down to idly stroke at himself, unable to resist as he almost casually fingers his boyfriend in such a ruthless manner. Continuous and without reprieve, Schneider pushes and pushes and curls his fingers hard into his prostate, wrist flexing and straining with the force. Paul’s legs are shaking uncontrollably. His cock is red, covering his belly in pre-cum. Paul has gone totally silent. His stomach is sucked in, his hips jolting involuntarily as his cock flexes.

“Coming, Paul?” Schneider calmly asks, voice low and intense. Nodding, Paul makes loud sounds of affirmation in his throat, a desperate, muffled _mmhm!_ before he gasps raggedly and starts babbling around the gag in his mouth. Pleading, nonsensical _pleading_ as his cock jumps, shooting thick ropes of cum over his belly. Schneider thrusts his fingers hard into his ass, _shoving_ them into him deeply as he feels him clench up tight. Paul groans loudly, collapsing and shaking uncontrollably. Schneider is pleased. He managed to come without even touching his cock. And it seems despite having an orgasm earlier, he still produced a great amount—his belly is covered in thick stripes, and a line of it is curling around the head of his dick, dripping from the slit generously. Schneider enjoys _that_ aspect of prostate orgasms, as well. Paul always has a lot to give.

As Paul comes down from it, panting and quivering, Schneider begins working in his forth finger. Slowly but surely, he forces his pinky in alongside his other three, with the aid of the plentiful lube. Paul grunts in discomfort, head lifting from the pillows. His legs have closed slightly as he came, pressing into Schneider’s knees, but again he spreads them far once more. He’s still really tight. Schneider can barely fit all four inside him, but he does manage it. He carefully works them in and out of his ass. He has to put more force into it.

Quivering still, Paul sobs, a hitching noise in his throat which dies into a whine. He jerks his legs, a wordless plea. Schneider chuckles. He reaches out with his free hand to grope and squeeze at one of his sweat-slicked thighs. Paul drops his head back down. Schneider watches himself pump his fingers into him. It’s a tight squeeze, but gradually, he begins to open up more and more. Paul is groaning, both in pleasure and in pain. Schneider begins stroking at himself again. His body is telling him to just push in and have fun with Paul’s body, but he wants to wait. Paul isn’t done.

Schneider dazedly wonders if Paul could take his entire fist. He would never dare to do it on his own accord, and honestly, he’d never suggest it, but the thought of bringing Paul to the brink like that is a sexy one. It’s the struggle that arouses him, the pain, the eventual pleasure, and then the relief. Paul begging him to stop without meaning it. Until he’d be inside, and Paul would just accept it, glad that the pain is over. Schneider realizes he’s losing himself in fantasy. He could just use a dildo for that. Either way, he really is a bit of a sadist when it comes to Paul, isn’t he? He refocuses.

Removing his four fingers has Paul relaxing with a deep exhale. His hole is well-fucked, reddened and absolutely slick with lube. Schneider wants to spank him there. Force him over his knee, command him to keep himself spread while Schneider had his fun. He’ll have to bring that concept up sometime.

Instead, he rises from the bed with a quiet creak to retrieve two toys from their chest: a prostate stimulation toy, and a dildo with very wide beads along the base. Paul is rubbing his thighs together, his cock still hard against his belly. He’s wiggling his hips, obviously trying to stimulate himself. Schneider stares, hypnotized. Paul’s shaft is an angry red, longer than it is thick, resting upon his heaving stomach. He fails to rub against anything, fruitlessly turning his hips and clenching his thighs together. He looks so appetizing.

Getting situated in front of Paul again, Schneider slides a hand between his clenching thighs and pushes them apart. Paul willingly lets them fall open again. His hole is wet and very open, clenching and reopening to Schneider’s indulgent gaze. His cock burns, aching to sink into that. Instead, Schneider shifts closer to comfortably kneel before him once more, knees pressed to his thighs to keep them apart, and coats the prostate stim toy with lube. He brings it down, rubs the bulbous head against his hole, and sinks it in effortlessly. Paul grunts. He shifts against the mound of pillows, getting comfortable with his head propped against the padded headboard, wrists adjusted in their bindings.

Schneider stares at the visual of Paul’s ass comfortably accepting the toy. Squeezing around it, sucking it in while Schneider only applies slight pressure. He angles it correctly, and then switches it on to medium vibration. Paul tenses up. The low humming fills the room, joined by Paul’s sucked in breathing, harsh and wet past the gag in his mouth. He whimpers. Schneider is feeling generous. He reaches out to grip his cock, soaked in his own cum, and begins stroking at it. Paul immediately arches, his hips pushing up into it, ass clenching around the toy. He cries out. Schneider’s belly is shot with arousal. Paul’s moans are deep and guttural, muffled around the cloth secured between his teeth. His entire body is alight with flame.

Totally mesmerized, Schneider begins thrusting the prostate toy just slightly, working it only enough to rub against his prostate, further stimulating it along with the vibrations. Paul is sobbing now. His hips are jolting. Schneider doesn’t stop. He continuously strokes at his shaft, the wet sounds of him pumping his hand over his cock easily overlapped by Paul’s whimpering cries.

And then he goes absolutely rigid. His legs are shaking wildly. Schneider stops stroking him, he merely holds his cock in his hand while firmly _pressing_ the toy into his prostate. Paul is panting harshly, chest heaving and teeth bared. And then he comes, spilling across Schneider’s fingers. That did not take long at all. At most, thirty seconds. Paul groans weakly, brokenly. His cock is straining in his grip, flexing uselessly. His cum is rolling down over Schneider’s fingers, to pool at the base of his shaft.

“Good boy,” Schneider praises, a slight grin on his face, “Felt good, didn’t it?”

Paul is so dazed, it seems, he doesn’t even register what he said at first. His head is rested upon the pillows, legs limp and chest heaving. Eventually, he does nod, slowly. Schneider hums with approval. Releasing Paul’s softening dick, Schneider then realizes he now has the issue of having Paul’s cum all over his hand. An easy way to solve that.

“You made a mess of my fingers. Clean it.”

Reaching out, he gently curls his fingers into the silk gag and pulls it out from his mouth. Paul’s lips are swollen and red, soaked in saliva. He weakly licks his lips. Schneider rests two fingertips upon his bottom lip, a warning, and Paul eagerly obeys; he opens his mouth. Schneider slides them in only to the second knuckle if only to avoid making him gag. Paul immediately begins sucking, roaming his tongue over and between them. Schneider pets at his wild hair with his other hand, a silent reward. Paul is breathing harshly through his nose as Schneider lets him lick off the remainder from his ring finger as well.

Paul kisses worshipfully over his knuckles, his fingertips, earning a faint smile from Schneider—and then he eases the gag back into his mouth. Paul obediently accepts it between his teeth again, wrapping his lips around it comfortably. Schneider strokes a thumb over his cheek which earns him a faint smile, and an attentive turn of Paul’s head. Settling back on his calves, Schneider sits and observes. Reaching out, he nudges his hands against the underside of Paul’s thighs—he obliges, spreading them further apart again. Schneider admires the visual, stroking a broad hand inward to rub his thumb over his slick, reddened hole. Paul shudders.

Schneider leans over to kiss across his chest. Skin soft and warm under his lips, Schneider appreciates his body in a slow, firm mouthing. A brief reassurance, a tenderness that Schneider often finds himself yearning to express. He pulls back, searches Paul’s weak expression beyond the gag in his mouth and the blindfold around his eyes. Leaning in, Schneider lays a firm, lasting kiss to his forehead—he hears a deep exhale, can feel Paul relax further into the bed.

Smiling to himself, Schneider sits back once more. He grabs the bottle of lube to begin coating the beaded dildo thoroughly. The largest bead at the base will be quite a feat to fit into him, but Schneider is eager to try. He rubs some lube onto Paul directly, and then brings the toy down to tease the tip against his hole.

The first two beads slip in easily, but the third takes a little force. It slips in with slight pressure—watching Paul’s ass eat it up is quite a visual. Schneider simply stares. Paul is squirming slightly, but is overall quiet, waiting for more. The angle isn’t exactly right, it seems—Paul shuffles his hips down a little further, until his pelvis is resting a bit more flat upon the bed. He spreads his thighs further again, getting comfortable. Schneider smiles to himself. He begins carefully working in the fourth bead. He glances up to study Paul’s face for any pain.

Slow and cautious, Schneider pushes and withdraws, pushes and withdraws, listening to Paul’s hitching breathing, watching his face. Gradually, he eases the thicker bead into him, watching the rim of his hole close around it. Schneider hears Paul grunt in strain, and then exhale harshly.

“Good?” Schneider quietly asks, his voice deepened by arousal, sharp blue eyes flicking up to Paul’s face. Paul nods. Schneider grips one lean thigh in a large hand, squeezing, and then strokes up and down along the freckled skin, a loving touch. He lets the bead slip out of him, and then eases it back inside. Paul grunts again. Repeatedly, Schneider lets it pop out of him, and then pushes it back in, the lube wet and plentiful, making it an easy insertion. Paul is huffing and squirming a little now, arms clenching, hands mindlessly grabbing at his cloth binds, the bars in the bed. Once deeming it sufficient, Schneider begins slowly forcing the dildo further into him, careful in his grip and force. Paul groans.

“Deep inside of you now, isn’t it,” Schneider murmurs, this haze of arousal leading his tongue. Paul whimpers. He nods shakily. Schneider knows the thickest point of that bead is now wedged perfectly along his prostate. Meanwhile, his asshole is struggling to accept the largest bead along the dildo. Schneider doesn’t force it. Paul is quivering. Schneider gently pulls the back the dildo again, letting the bead pop out from his ass with a shudder and a sharp grunt from Paul.

Taking a moment, he grabs the bottle of lube and turns it over to squeeze a small dollop along the bead. Once again, he slowly forces it back in. Paul’s body accepts it easier now. He pushes the dildo in just slightly further, until that bead is once again nestled against his prostate, applying a pressure that has Paul wiggling and huffing harshly through his nose. Schneider watches his ass clench wetly around the thick base of the beaded dildo while he begins slowly, slightly thrusting it. Just enough to stimulate, just enough to grind the bead against the spot inside of him that has Paul gasping and moaning, toes curling into the bed, hips rising marginally.

The wet, almost _sucking_ sound of Schneider carefully pumping the dildo inside of him, just slightly enough to work it against his prostate, fills the room along with Paul’s hitching gasps and tight grunts. His hips are raised still, suspended almost involuntarily as he digs his feet into the bed, toes clenched. His hands are open-palmed, fingers locked up as if in another form of pleasure-induced rigor mortis. His grunting becomes deeper, more guttural. His chest and belly are flushed deeply now. His throat is working again and again, swallowing repeatedly. His teeth are bared around the gag. He’s losing control of his body.

Schneider continues working the dildo back and forth in the slightest thrusts, knowing just where that large bead sits inside of him. Paul’s dick is flexing. Darkened an angry red, leaking plentiful pre-cum onto his clenched stomach. His body is entirely locked up with tension. His legs begin shaking and jolting wildly. He’s moaning hoarsely around the gag, a powerful sound of agonizing pleasure. His entire body is lifting from the bed, feet and elbows digging into the mattress as his spine arches and his hips involuntarily rise, hands clawing at the bars. Not even aware of how he’s responding—how his _body_ is responding. Schneider focuses on pumping the dildo until Paul is totally motionless and quivering. A hitching, choked sound rips out from his throat. His belly is clenched in tight, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Pitiful remnants of his cum trickle out from the slit of his cock, to trail down his heaving belly—a streak of clear, shiny fluid, as if his balls had nothing substantial left to give at all. Rather than simply dropping, Paul shakily lowers himself back down upon the bed, and then he just goes _limp_. He’s panting hard. Schneider eases out the dildo, slowly and carefully.

“Good boy,” Schneider praises, setting the dildo aside on the towel, only to begin massaging and squeezing at Paul’s quivering legs, stroking from his shins back up to his thighs. He roams his hands along his sweat-slicked sides, feeling his rib cage inflate and deflate with his deep, hard breaths. He looks exhausted. Head slumped back, body heaving, arms limp. His weak hands are strung up motionlessly by the silk cloth. Evidently, he’s spent.

“Alright,” Schneider says roughly, and then clears his throat only to continue, “Let’s get you on your belly. It’s my turn.”

Paul grumbles tiredly. Schneider leans in and kisses across his chest, broad hands cupped around his sides, and then rises.

After taking a moment to wipe up the mess of semen on Paul’s belly, Schneider unties his wrists, slips off the spit-soaked gag as well as the blindfold, and then dutifully helps him move onto his stomach. Paul is extremely weak and lethargic, legs and arms trembling. He really had such powerful orgasms, didn’t he? Schneider finds it adorable. And sexy.

Splatting into the pillows, Paul curls one under his cheek and rests upon it with a deep sigh. Schneider strokes at his messy red hair and begins kissing along the length of his spine. Across warm, freckled skin, dampened by sweat. He massages firmly at his muscular thighs while gently easing them apart. Paul hums sleepily. Schneider reaches under to gently cup a hand around Paul’s softened dick and his balls, and slips them out from under him so they rest comfortably upon the bed between his thighs. Grinning slightly to himself, Schneider runs his fingers along the length of him there, earning a little shudder. He then grabs the lube.

Wiping a thick droplet across Paul’s well-fucked hole, thoroughly coating it, he strokes the remainder over his achingly hard cock. And even that feels amazing—he has been so eager to fuck him, this entire time. Paul is breathing slowly and deeply. He hasn’t spoken yet. Usually by now he would’ve made a comment. He’s just that exhausted.

Becoming a little excited, Schneider finds himself hungrily mouthing along Paul’s broad back. Sucking and biting marks into the soft, pale flesh. Paul hums softly into the pillow, obviously enjoying it. That, in turn, only encourages the other man. Schneider gropes firmly at his cute, round ass, broad fingers utterly encompassing him, and then runs his devouring touch further down over his weakened thighs. Squeezing him there, and then back up again to his ass while he lowers himself.

Schneider likes to indulge. He likes to cover him with his hands, his mouth, his teeth. He kisses at the small of his back, tasting sweat here. Then he bites playfully at his asscheek, catching the flesh firmly between his teeth, hard enough it has Paul jerking and chuckling into the pillow. Then he rolls his back and hums lowly, “Nnn, Christoph…”

Cupping his hand delicately under Paul’s junk resting upon the bed, Schneider curls his fingers possessively around him and holds him while continuing to bite at his ass. He begins sucking harshly, hard enough when paired with his teeth to leave painful marks—Paul jerks slightly with every one, whimpering under his breath from the pain. Schneider huffs and pants against his skin, left wet and bruised from his mouth. He then rises up, releasing Paul’s junk to instead climb up over his relaxed body.

Without much warning, Schneider aligns himself correctly atop Paul, gripping his cock, and sweeps the head down between his bitten asscheeks to sink into him slowly. Paul grunts, immediately spreading his legs further apart. Schneider shudders, releasing a deep exhale as he hangs his head, peering between their bodies as he watches his cock gradually slide into him. And that really feels devastatingly good. With no barrier, just feeling that wet, tight slickness around his bare cock. Sinking in, letting the hot, squeezing grip of Paul’s ass clench around his intruding shaft—it’s unbelievable. Schneider is breathing harshly already himself. He won’t last long.

“Ah, God—” Paul gasps, fidgeting under him, pressing his face into the pillow, clutching at it with his slim hands. He’s inching his legs even further apart, until they knock into Schneider’s and he can’t spread them further. Schneider grunts, letting his pelvis finally rest upon him, seating himself fully inside of him. Paul jerks a hand back from the pillow, his wrist knocking into Schneider’s arm. He’s panting hard, back rippling with tension. He finds Schneider’s hand, clutching at it tightly. Schneider sits still upon him, speaking lowly.

“Hurts?”

“Nngh, no,” Paul huffs, squirming under him, “Just—sensitive.”

Schneider is silent, merely watching Paul restlessly shift under him. He slowly pulls out, sinks back in. Paul moans, head lifting from the pillow. The slick sound of Schneider calmly, carefully working his dick back and forth into Paul is audible and arousing. Schneider huffs and grunts, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Good boy,” he grits out tightly, “Taking my cock so well—feels good fucking you like this. Does it feel good for you? Tell me.”

He is barely aware of what he’s saying, he’s so aroused and mindlessly horny—eager to come. His tongue is loosened with his hazy state of mind.

“Y-Yeah,” Paul gasps out, “Better than the dildo.”

“Of course it is,” Schneider murmurs thickly, “I know you like having me on top of you. Like it when I fuck you.”

Paul buries his face into the pillow once more and nods shyly. Schneider collapses forward, bracing his elbows upon the bed on either side of his boyfriend. He covers him with his body. Paul makes a sound of approval. Schneider nuzzles into the buzzed hair at the back of his head. He huffs into his skin and begins pumping his hips faster and deeper. Paul moans, muffled into the pillow. His noises rise in volume as Schneider begins picking up the pace. The clap of his hips meeting Paul’s ass fills the room, overlapping his muffled cries.

“Good boy,” Schneider growls, quickly snapping down against him, resting his forehead upon his shoulder blade. Paul is groaning wordlessly, shuddering and squirming below him, pinned to the bed. The satisfaction of claiming Paul like this overcomes him. He’s breathing harshly already through grit teeth, his skin fiery and trembling, stomach twisting and clenching with pleasure. Paul doing nothing but taking it, letting Schneider do as he pleased.

While he does enjoy keeping him restrained with his body, indulging in this dominant position, Schneider wants to see his face. He slows to a stop, pushing in deeply once more, grinding into him and eliciting a sharp grunt from Paul. Then he pulls out slowly, which has Paul going lax upon the bed, tension dissipating. Without warning, Schneider manhandles him: he tucks one hand under his hip, the other gripping his bicep, and then flips him over. Paul makes a noise of shock, reflexively planting his elbows into the bed to regain balance, and then bursts out a laugh.

“You could have just asked,” he giggles, collapsing back against the pillows, beaming at the other man with great amusement. Schneider casually grabs him by the knees, hooking his hands around them, and tugs him closer across the sheets. Paul laughs sharply again, hands raised, poised for defense. The grin remains on his boyish face.

Wordlessly, Schneider pins his knees up to his chest. It has Paul’s hips following along with it, raising his lower half for the optimal angle Schneider is going for. Paul smiles up at him faintly, reaching out to stroke at his forearms. It’s a cute visual when accompanied by his flushed cheeks and disheveled ruby hair, but Schneider would rather not emerge from this headspace just yet by indulging Paul’s playfulness. Schneider shifts closer, kneeling close to him.

“Guide it in,” he gruffly orders. Paul squeezes his forearms tenderly and then reaches down. Lifting his head from the sheets, Paul peeks down. He grips Schneider’s flushed cock, strokes at it twice in a tight fist with a coy grin on his face, and then sweeps it down between his asscheeks, angling it correctly. He maintains a tight hold with his fingers so as Schneider pushes in, it pulls back his foreskin. Schneider releases a shaky exhale of pleasure, glancing down to watch his shaft sink into the other man. Paul hums. Once his fingers reach the base of Schneider’s cock, he turns his hand to cradle his balls instead, groping at them firmly. Schneider grunts. Paul laughs lightly, musing, “Feels good, doesn’t it, sir?”

Schneider flicks his tongue between his lips, wetting them. He should have left the gag crammed in that big mouth. Dangerous blue eyes train on Paul’s.

“Shut your mouth. Don’t speak to me like that unless you’re _addressed._ Understand?”

Paul blinks up at him widely, paused in surprise. He then nods a little, eyes falling apologetically. As a departing touch, he gently kneads Schneider’s balls in his fingers, the playful brat, and then removes his hand. He instead rests both up by his head, gazing at Schneider with a soft, teasing smile and hooded eyes. The lax position shows submissiveness but also contentment. Baring his broad chest, freckled shoulders, firm arms, and his hard, dark pink nipples asking for teeth. With his knees pinned up, bending him nearly in half and keeping him restrained, he’s under Schneider’s mercy. As he should be.

Refocusing, Schneider watches himself pull out half way. Then he releases one of Paul’s legs—though Paul keeps it raised, wisely—and grips the base of his cock. He keeps his dick at this angle, fingers tight around his shaft, as he begins thrusting slightly, just enough to prod against the spot that has Paul clenching around him and gasping aloud. He maintains the tight hold on his cock with a fist, keeping it in place as he lets the head pass over his prostate in short, firm thrusts. Paul arches his head back and moans, and then lifts it again dazedly if only to watch. The wet sound of these short thrusts are loud amongst Paul’s whimpering noises. His legs are quivering now. His belly is sucking in.

“Oh, fuck,” Paul gasps softly, hands flying down to clutch at Schneider’s thighs. He grunts thickly and then chokes out, eyes flinching shut in pleasure, “That’s—good—!"

Every tight grunt from Paul’s throat, escaping past grit teeth, is adding fuel to the smoldering fire in Schneider’s stomach, expanding and growing in size, until it encompasses him, spreading throughout his body. He’s tingling from sensation, dazed from his state of arousal. He’s breathing hard himself, the sensation of Paul squeezing around him, working over him—it’s too much. Schneider only maintains these short thrusts for a moment longer before he can’t take it anymore. He regains the grasp around Paul’s knee, pinning his legs further up until the curve of his backside fits perfectly in Schneider’s hips. Then he shoves in entirely, and begins plowing into him fast and hard. Loud, ringing smacks of his pelvis striking against Paul’s ass, his balls hitting against him, a telling indication to just how deeply he’s fucking him now.

Paul cries out, nails digging into Schneider’s thighs, clawing at him as he bore the force of his lust. Schneider huffs and grunts noisily, losing himself to his orgasm that is rushing up rapidly, uncontrollably. Paul moans genuinely, deeply in his throat. Head craned back, he’s evidently enjoying it as much as him.

“Fuck me, sir—oh—fuck me,” Paul groans raggedly, his voice hitching, punched from his lungs breathlessly, his legs clenching tight around Schneider’s hands. Schneider devours the visual of Paul’s flushed body, bent in half and eagerly receiving what it must take. His cock isn’t even fully hard, but streaks of pre-cum are clinging to his skin, dripping from the lip of his foreskin. Schneider loses sense of vision, of control, of speech. He’s grunting and panting loudly as his belly tightens, his muscles rippling, skin pouring with sweat of exertion—the pleasure rising and rising, until his body falls apart, and _he_ falls apart.

Bearing his weight into Paul by the grasp around his legs, Schneider keeps him totally pinned and at his mercy as he pounds into him without thought or coherence, unhearing Paul’s choked cries of pleasure shadowed by pain. The hands on his thighs have gravitated up to clutching desperately at his biceps, but Schneider doesn’t take heed of it as he’s hit with the impact of his orgasm. He comes with a deep groan and a heaved, deep breath in, driving into Paul thrice more, in finality. _Shoving_ into him, and then merely sitting inside of him, stuttering to a stop. Paul is groaning, evidently enjoying this moment of Schneider’s ecstasy as well, his hands hungrily clutching at him. Schneider’s thighs are burning from strain, his chest heaving for air, skin hot and sweaty.

Tension ebbing away from his locked limbs, Schneider goes utterly weak on top of Paul. He releases his legs to instead collapse upon him, elbows braced against the bed, head bowed forward to rest atop his flushed chest. Paul slowly closes his legs around him. A hand cups around the back of his head, fingers threading among short red hair slickened by sweat. Paul hugs him, wrapping his muscular arm around his wide back, hand squeezing at his side.

Schneider takes in a shuddering breath, basking in the embrace. He then rises up off of him, if only to collapse beside the other man among the tangled sheets. He goes limp, keeping one arm draped around Paul’s midsection. Paul sprawls out with a relieved sigh, and then stretches, as indicated by a strained grunt and a pop of joints. A hand remains on Schneider’s arm, stroking lovingly up and down along overheated skin.

For a few minutes they remain laying like this. Schneider squeezes his arm around Paul, pulling him closer. He nuzzles into his shoulder. Paul laughs softly. He continues petting at Schneider’s arm.

“How y’feeling?” Schneider mumbles sleepily into Paul’s skin. Paul hums. He turns to face Schneider, and then wiggles closer, if only to bring his arm around him and bury into his chest. Schneider is silent, welcoming it. He holds him tightly, and noses at his red hair, breathing him in with a soft, happy exhale. Paul tangles their legs together. He proceeds to go absolutely limp against him.

“Good,” Paul whispers, “I kinda slipped out of it at the end there.”

“It was probably because I released you… And removed the gag,” Schneider sleepily replies, spoken into Paul’s hair, “But it’s fine. It was fun either way.”

Paul hums quietly in agreement. Schneider begins stroking lightly at Paul’s back, running his curled fingers along warm skin, knuckles drifting.

“Is there anything I can do for you right now?” he murmurs softly, “Do you need water? Anything?”

Schneider feels Paul tighten his arm around him, hand flat upon his back.

“Let’s get some water,” Paul answers, pulling back to search Schneider’s sleepy face, smiling wider now, “Then I want to cuddle and kiss for a long time. I missed your lips.”

Schneider’s tired expression lightens a bit with amusement. He smiles faintly and nods. He leans over to lovingly press his pursed mouth to Paul’s forehead—in return, Paul strokes his hand up and down over his back.

“Alright. I can make that happen,” Schneider promises, and then kisses him there once more. Adoration and tenderness swells in him. A need, an urge to protect him and comfort him, to make him feel wanted and loved and safe. Paul is his, so he must keep what is his cherished and well cared for. Nothing less.

“I… I love you,” he murmurs, emboldened by his surging feelings, tucking his chin to nuzzle into Paul’s short, red hair, “I hope you had a good time. I did.”

Paul snorts fondly. He lightly pinches the warm skin of Schneider’s back.

“Of course I did. If I wasn’t enjoying it, I would’ve just left. Or demanded you do better.”

Schneider smiles into his hair.

“You definitely would have.”

Paul chuckles, and then adds cheekily, “And I love you, too. Dork. Now let's get some water, I'm withering away over here."

**Author's Note:**

> Near the end, while editing, I was thinking to myself "who would even still be reading at this point?" Sometimes, smut can really drag on and on. lol
> 
> babypaulchen.tumblr.com


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